Sara Dombrowski
Information Name: Sara Dombrowski Nickname: Kitty Cat (very few people can call me that) Age: 18 DOB: December 10 Hair Color: Dark Brown Eye Color: Green Favorite Color: Purple Favorite Food: Italian Food (anything italian) Hobbies: Writing, acting, reading, singing and dancing Career Dream: Working in the theater, could be acting or directing. Worst Fear: Any situation that could reduce me to a state of weakness, hates feeling and being seen as vulnerable. Also Claustrophobic and hates needles. History Past experiences in middle school left Sara slightly bitter and depressed, almost at the breaking point, and at times considering to end it all. It wasn't until high school that she found a way to calm her anger and bitterness through the art of pretending to be someone else. Now a days she comes across as closed off and no matter how close she seems to people, inside she feels almost alone, all thanks to the cruelty of school children. To most people, Sara comes across both twisted and someone you do not want to screw with. She became this way as a form of self defense, however it makes it hard for her to trust people. Somehow when she met Andrew, things changed, she became more open with people, and she found that she was developing a crush on Andrew. But her pride keeps her from telling him so. In her mind, if she looses Andrew she'll loose a piece of herself, as well as all the progess she's made by being around him. One night, after a late rehearsal, the Red Death appeared before her, choking her, but miraculously, she regained consciousness. The next morning, Andrew calls her to see if everything was all right. Still a little fuzzed about the encounter, she replies that she's fine. However, another call buzzed in, and that night started all over again for Sara. The Red Death told her that if she didn't attend the ball, he would kill Andrew, slowly, by gouging his eyes out and leave them on her doorstep. Taking his threat, she accepts, hoping to take down the murderer at all costs. Victim in Holding: Andrew, her secret crush. Dress and Mask Sara's Prologue My name is Sara Dombrowski; I have a normal everyday life. Well as normal as an eighteen year old Oregonian's life can be. I go to a local high school in Kite City. I participate in the usual Thespian after school activities. Heck, I even managed to star in the school play as a crazy old woman with a love of killing; all in all, a normal everyday life. So, it is beyond me as to how I somehow became involved with a killer like the Red Death. Well, it may have been the fact that I have a personal interest in criminals, especially serial killers. But my life was too hectic for me to open up my laptop and hit the news sites like I used to. I think this all started on a Friday night. The cast of the musical at the local city theater was just wrapping up a late night rehearsal. It had been a tough practice, mostly composed of dancing, and the director yelling at us to get our heads in the game. I had just come out of the dressing room, and was cleaning away the residue of stage make-up. The auditorium was very quiet, which was strange. There were still several people hanging around. But they were all gathered around the director's laptop. Walking over I looked up at my friend, Andrew. "What's going on?" Andrew looked around, his dark eyes wide with worry and fear. "The Red Death has killed someone else. He sent a video of it to the news station." Leaning forward, my ears were assaulted by the screams of a man. My mouth dropped. The screen seemed to be taken over by blood as a tall silhouette fell onto the victim. Blood spilled onto the floor, like a waterfall of death. Every once in a while a fiery glow could be seen, accompanied by the sizzling of burning flesh. The shrieks continued, never ending. It felt like forever before the slashing and cutting stopped. The killer pulled away from his slaughter. His face wasn't visible; however his eyes could be seen. They looked as if they came straight from hell, ripped from the sockets of Satan himself. The killer started laughing; his voice was liquid and smooth, dangerous but seductive. Halting his slaughter, his eyes fixed themselves on the camera. It felt like he was looking at me, seeing everything, every secret. Every lie I've ever told. "Blood is my avatar and my seal. I am the Red Death!" His voice rang clearly in my ears, like solemn bells tolling. The feed was cut, and the screen was given back to the news crew. Who looked shaken and deathly pale, no one spoke. No one even coughed. Finally, the director spoke. His voice was shaking, but he was trying to get a grip on it, but he achieved nothing. "I'll be shutting down the lights in a few minutes." I took a breath, suddenly realizing that I had been holding it through the entire video. Walking over to the exit, I grabbed my backpack and jacket on the way. Pulling my gloves out, I put them on and then my jacket. I was not looking forward to the prospect of walking home. I only lived a mile away from the theater. But the thought of walking home in the dark was not inviting. I was in the process of buttoning up my jacket, when Andrew grabbed me from behind. Screaming, I spun around and kneed him in the stomach. He gasped in pain, but started laughing like a moron. "Shit Sara! It's only me!" Feeling guilty, I hugged him and apologized profusely. "Andrew! Oh man, I'm so sorry, that video…it was terrible…and it umm." Andrew looked down at me and smiled. "Hey, it's ok. I shouldn't have attacked you like that. I was wondering if you wanted me to walk you home. I don't like the thought of you being alone…" Shaking my head, I replied. "I'll be fine. And I don't want you to walk an extra mile just because of me. It's below freezing out here." Andrew eyed me; and smirked in his usual mischievous way. I loved him so much, but I would rather go to hell and back before I told him. It wasn't because he was taken, or anything of that nature. It was more along the lines of pride, I hated being vulnerable, reminded me to much of middle school and the times when I thought death seemed to be only way out. My pride in my strength was my weakness; oh the irony in that statement was so intense I could almost taste it. "Call me when you get home ok." Giving Andrew a reassuring smile, I finished encasing my body in my jacket and took off. This town was slightly run down, so a good portion of the lamp lights were burned out. Throwing the streets into an almost absolute darkness, save for the glow of the pale orb that hung in the blackened canvas of the sky. It was a new moon tonight which was a relief. Suddenly the path before me became dark, making next to impossible to see; the clouds had moved in and covered the moon completely. Gritting my teeth, I muttered. "Fuck me." I was just passing under what seemed to be the only lit street lamp, when I heard something crash in the alley across the street. Freezing in my tracks I stared into the pitch. My green eyes narrowing, trying to see, so far nothing, I started to shake, and not from the cold. Licking my lips I called into the darkness "H-hello?" No reply. It was all silence. The hair on the back of my neck stood, spinning around I stared down the alley on my side of the street. I felt as if I were being watched. Being stupid, I attempted to be fearless. "Look, whoever the hell you are, answer me or I'll umm I'll, well I'll do something that's going to involve a lot of pain on your part." Still no answer, taking a deep breath, I slowly made my way closer to the alley entrance. Something moved a sudden flitting shadow. Within a second a tall silhouette was before me. My lips quivering, I looked up. My mouth dropped, my eyes locked with another pair of eyes; eyes that looked like hell, like Satan's eyes had been ripped from his sockets. "Scared baby?" I felt a hand on my shoulder; I think that was when I started to scream. The hand on my shoulder swiped and nailed me in the face, I was on the ground. Not for long though, within a second, he had me around the neck. My usual attitude started to show itself. "Put me down you son of a bitch, put me the fuck down!!!" Hearing a deep throated chuckle, he brought his face close to mine. "You talk too much baby." That said he started to cut off my air supply. I started to gasp, coughing, trying to give my brain some oxygen. It wasn't long until fear and the lacking in air flow caused me to black out. I don't know how long I remained there. All I remember is that it had started raining, and the sudden ice cold droplets had woken me up. It took me a minute to remember why I was lying on the ground in the middle of the sidewalk. My mind was still fuzzy on the details; I got up and made my way home. I was relieved as hell that my parents were out of town. My mother would have had my head on a plate if she knew I came home so late. Taking a seat on a bar stool in the kitchen I stared at the clock. I had left the theater at about eleven thirty. It was now exactly one in the morning. I had been out there for a while. It was a wonder no one noticed me, and that no sleazebags had raped or mugged me. The whole ordeal didn't really set in until I'd started make myself a late dinner. I had just survived an encounter with a serial killer. I had been touched by the Red Death. I ended up waking up at about ten the next morning. I was sore. Rolling out of bed I walked into the bathroom. My mouth fell open in a silent scream; I had bruises around my neck, in the shape of a hand. I didn't think he had been that rough on me, but he had been. The proof was right there in black, purple and blue. My cell phone started ringing, I screamed in fright. I was still a tad jumpy; last night's events were finally having an effect. Walking out of the bathroom I grabbed my phone "H-hello?" I was expecting creepy breathing, but instead it was Andrew's voice. "Sara, you didn't call me last night. You scared me!" Instantly I felt terrible. "Oh Andrew, I'm sorry I forgot. Umm I got home and passed out on the couch. I kind of just woke up." There was a sigh on the other end. "You had me really worried." Only Andrew could make me feel this guilty. "I'm sorry, really I am. My mind is all over the place." Hearing shuffling from his end, Andrew sounded concerned "You alright?" Looking at the mirror attached to my closet door, I again inspected the bruises. "Yeah, yeah I'm alright. Just frazzled, school's been hell you know?" There was a beep; I had a call on the other line. It was probably Mom. "Andrew hang on, I think my Mom is trying to call. Not really waiting for a reply, I went to the other line. "Hello?" The reply I received was not my mother's warm greeting like I had expected. "Hey baby." I was floored, absolutely speechless. It was him. "Wha-what do want? How in God's name did you get this number?" He chuckled, finding my fear amusing. "Oh, I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright." That caused a slight spurt of anger "Well yeah, no thanks to you, you fucker!" It sounded as if he were shaking his head "Tut tut such harsh language for a little girl." He was asking for it now. "I am far from a little girl you son of a bitch!" A sigh, "And there you go again, Sara." I practically fell at my name. "How-how did you know my name?" Another laugh. "Oh, I know a lot of things, Sara. I know that you hate needles. I know that you have a passion for acting. I also know that you hold a certain theater techie very close to your heart. What was his name, Andrew? I think?" My fingernails began to dig into my palms, almost drawing blood. "What do you want?" He continued to talk, ignoring my question. "I wonder what you would do, if he suddenly disappeared, and reappeared on the T.V screen, with me, gutting him like a pig. What would you do when you heard him screaming and begging for mercy?" I couldn't take it anymore. "Shut up! Just shut up and tell me what you want!!!" This made him pause, and then he started to laugh. "Oh, it's nothing taxing baby. I'm having a little masquerade with a few lovely ladies like you at Prospero Castle. And I'd like for you to come." Prospero Castle, the name rang a faint bell in the back of my head, but still that was it? That couldn't be it. Stilling the shaking of my voice, I snapped. "And if I don't attend?" He sighed, in an annoyed fashion. "You know what will happen to your little boyfriend if you don't. I'll find him, I'll kill him slowly. I'll scoop out those eyes you love so much with hot metal, and leave them on your doorstep. I'll tell him that the only reason he is suffering is because of you." Tears started to make trails down my cheeks. "O-ok, I'll go." "Good girl." He purred. "Now tomorrow night there will be a car waiting for you in front of your house. If you are not out there, the driver will call me. And…well you know what will happen to your little crush, do I make myself clear baby?" Holding back my sobs I nodded. "Crystal." I could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Good girl, now why don't you get back to your little conversation with Andrew? Even from this angle I can see he is starting to worry." He hung up; I held the phone away from me as if it were going to bite me. I did my best to rein in my emotions before I went back to Andrew, the Red Death was probably just outside his house, preparing to take him, and it was my fault. I felt as if I were going to be sick. "Hey Sara, you were gone for a while." Wiping away tears, I laughed. "Yeah, sorry my mom just wanted to make sure I didn't burn the house down….Listen Andrew I have to go, I have homework to do. I'll talk with you later." We said our goodbyes. I was so tempted to confess to him, tell him everything, but it felt as if I'd be admitting defeat if I did. How I regret not doing it now. Putting down my cell I walked into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror I started shaking. I turned on my music and started to get ready for the rest of the morning. I had just finished when I heard the door bell ring. Sighing, I made my way downstairs, pulling a green sweater on over my head. Opening the front door, I was greeted by a FedEx guy. "Hey, can you sign for this?" Nodding I took the pad from him and scribbled an S. Taking the package he carried I closed the door. It was for me, strange it wasn't even close to my birthday or any other holiday. Taking a steak knife from the drawer I cut the tape and opened the box. An envelope was taped to the inner lid of the box, sealed with red wax, the old fashion way. It had been embossed with the image of a screaming skull. My breath caught in my throat. Opening the letter I only found a single sentence. For the ball, see you then my little Spit Fire. ~ The Red Death Setting down the letter with shaking hands, I opened the box all the way. I expected something terrible to be hidden within the packaging, but my hands ran up against fabric, soft fabric. Slowly, tentatively I picked it up. It was a ball gown, a beautiful, non life threatening ball gown. 'Well of course, it's a fucking ball genius, you ding dong.' Gently I took it out of the box. It was soft elegant red color, almost like blood, fresh blood. It was a V-neck, very revealing around the breast area, it was open, like the ugly dresses celebrities wore during the Emmys, but on the opening was laced floral print. Making it classy, elegant, and yet modern. The skirts pooled onto the floor, reminding me of the gore from the Red Death's video clip of his latest kill. My stomach churned, my face greening a little. He knew everything; the dress was in the perfect size. Seeing something else in the box I put the dress down on the counter, checking first to make sure the counter top was clean. Looking deeper into the box, I found a pair of silvery red strapped heals. Next to them was a yet another box, smaller, with embossed ivy vines pressed into the lid. Leaning forward I picked it up, it was light. So that ruled out that it was a gun or a knife. Putting it on the counter, I lifted the lid. Looking back at me was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, it was a mask. It was a half-mask. It would cover my face from the nose up. It was painted a dingy sort of red color; a lighter shade of red was splashed across the face along with specks of gold. On either side it had ribbons that would be used to attach it to my face. Putting everything in the box, I took all of it and walked back upstairs to my room. Tomorrow night was going to be hell. And there was the threat that I may die, I mean I was going to a ball hosted by a serial killer, a mad man who got his kicks out of threatening a teenage girl. And who is to say that he isn't tormenting others like me. Other women whose loved ones were being held hostage, threatened with death. Just so this sick fucker could have some fun. The thought of this whole thing made me sick to my stomach. Tomorrow was going to be worse than hell, I think Hell made a new ring just to accommodate the misery and anger my body harbored. The next night, I could be found upstairs, standing before my mirror. My lips were painted a light red, matching the dress. Tonight I looked paler that usual, due to how unsettled and nervous I felt. I was never one to blush, but tonight I looked like death. The bottom of the gown pooled at my feet, shifting against my bare feet with the aid of the floor heater. Bending forward I grabbed the shoes that had also been in the box, and strapped them on. Picking up a pair of golden arm cuffs, I slipped them up my arm until they felt tight and secure. After that, I picked up my favorite necklace from the bed. It was made up walrus tusk, a gift from a friend several years ago. One side, Bastet the Egyptian goddess was carved into the ivory. On the other side was my name, carved out in Hieroglyphics. Clasping it around my neck I stared into the paralleled dimension. My bangs fell into my eyes, concealing them; hiding the bloodshot veins that had been caused by early morning tears. I was calm now, but I was balancing on the breaking point. My wave of depression was now replaced by a hurricane of rage. Looking over at my dresser an idea came to mind; my eyes darted around the room, checking the window. One last look and I made my way to one drawer in particular. Opening it, I pulled out a butterfly knife, a gift from one of my red neck friends. She even went through the trouble of teaching me how to use it. Hell, she even gave me a holster. Glancing around one more time, I lifted the folds of my gown and attached the knife holster to my thigh. Tucking in the knife, I let the skirts drop. Concealing the weapon, I prayed to every higher being that the Red Death would not notice it. The least I could do tonight was arm myself for whatever lied ahead. A last look in the mirror confirmed that I looked innocent and unarmed, good. Seeing headlights pulling into the driveway of my house, I glanced out the window. Outside sat a limo, like something a bunch of crazy preps would rent for prom. Personally I never understood why they would waste their money on a onetime thing; it wasn't as if they couldn't keep the bloody car. Hmm, it appears that I am rambling, a confirmation that I am in fact, terrified. Making my way downstairs, I opened the front door. Grabbing my leather jacket as I went, not giving two licks that it threw off my whole appearance. A man stepped out of the car and opened the door for me. Not even making eye contact, I stepped it. My assumptions had been correct. I was not the only woman suffering by the hands of the Red Death. In the limo sat many others, all of them angry, crying or terrified. They all watched me as I took my place among them. Looking up, I locked eyes with a girl in a mint green gown who sat across from me. Her eyes were just as bloodshot as mine. I gave her a nod of greeting. And with that we were off. My mind trailed back to an Agatha Cristi quote, under my breath I mumbled. "And then there were five."